A Sight To Behold
by Givethemtriumphnow
Summary: A routine visit to the Prince's apartment sparks an unlikely understanding between His Highness and the Royal Advisor, and friendship blossoms where once there was cold professionalism. Set after Brotherhood: Bittersweet Memories. Title may change.


_**Life isn't fair. So why not do your part to spite life, and make the world a better place instead?**_

Ignis rebalanced the paper bag of groceries in one hand as he thumbed through the various keys on his lanyard with the other, getting ready to unlock the door to the Prince's apartment. It was finally the weekend, so he had come over to prepare the Prince's lunch for him on one of His Highness' rare days off; unfortunately, a meeting had gone on longer than planned, so he was running quite late, only leaving the Palace at 2 o'clock. It had been a few days since he had visited last, and he had made sure to bring the special, heavy-duty dish soap and steel wool pads needed to scrub the burned skillet clean.

He opened the door without much trouble, and the sight that met him was as disappointing as it was simultaneously unsurprising; the Prince's shoes had been kicked off haphazardly near the door, and when he peered at the apartment's dining room table he saw it was piled high once more in various school supplies, empty food wrappers, and plastic cartons. A few dirty dishes were sitting stacked up on one side, and Ignis was glad he had brought a few extra dish sponges as well. He grimaced in distaste when he saw most of the wrappers and containers were from various instant meals or an alarmingly-wide selection of sweets. The only consolation was the bottle of 'one-a-day' vitamins laying on the floor, but when he picked it up, he discovered the bottle was still full, despite the nearby receipt proclaiming it was from a week prior.

The house was remarkably silent, and Ignis was just about to conclude that the Prince was still out, when an almighty crash from the Prince's bedroom had him leaping a foot in the air.

Thoroughly alarmed- was there a common thief in the apartment, or perhaps even an assassin after the prince?- Ignis quietly placed the bag of groceries down behind the counter, out if sight, and drew out the twin throwing knives he kept in special sheathes. He also kept a dagger as well, in case of close-combat, but preferred to neutralize a threat from a distance to better defend his charge.

Thankful for the thick carpet, Ignis slowly crept toward His Highness' bedroom, knives held aloft, ready at the slightest provocation to be flung at an opponent.

There was another loud crash from behind the closed door, followed by a thud and an enraged shout.

Ignis' blood ran cold when he **recognized** the Prince's voice, and, stealth abandoned, he raced forward the last few feet and flung the door open, fully expecting to see his Highness fighting for his life against a burglar or assassin.

What greeted him instead was the Crown Prince, face streaked with tears, blood streaming from a gash in his forearm, in the middle of kicking a small chest of drawers across the otherwise unoccupied room.

His Highness did not freeze up when he saw Ignis; rather he sneered despite the tears marring his face and brusquely turned his head to the side, avoiding Ignis' shocked gaze and hunching his shoulders defensively, fists clenched, as if His Highness were expecting a reprimand.

Ignis' throwing knives clattered to the floor, and His Highness' shoulders hunched higher towards his ears as Ignis stared. Ignis' mind was awhirl with confusion and concern- what had distressed the Prince so? Ignis had only seen His Highness cry on a very few occasions- and all of the ones he could recall were after the Prince had experienced a death via the visions the Goddess sent him. Was that it? Had the Prince experienced a particularly vivid vision, or perhaps seen the death of someone close to him? That would explain why His Highness was so upset, but not the injury-

Unless it did. Ignis' heart leapt to his throat as he considered the possibility that the young Prince had deliberately injured himself as an outlet for his distress. No, by the Goddess, no, the visions could not have gotten so bad with no one noticing, surely Ignis would have seen it before now!

"Your Highness, what is wrong?" Ignis pleaded as he forced himself to take slow, measured steps forward instead of sprinting across the room like he so wished; he could see His Highness' face, usually so expressionless, was jumping and twitching as the Prince obviously fought to restore his usual stoic facade through the repressed sobs that still shook his frame. The Prince's breath hitched at the question, and Ignis could see His Highness' face twist into a new expression, somewhere between rage and despair as tears forced themselves out of eyes that stared hard at the floor, avoiding his own gaze.

The Prince's lips parted and a word, too low and strangled by sobs to be understood, was uttered through clenched teeth. His Highness' hands clenched into tighter fists, and Ignis could see that the Prince was too upset to even speak. He grew even more concerned- if the Prince was this upset over a vision, what could the young man have possibly seen? The only thing Ignis could think of that would upset His Highness so much would be the frail state of his father-

A lightning bolt seemed to strike Ignis, paralyzing his limbs for an instant, before he forced himself to keep moving. No, His Highness could not have seen a vision of his father dying; neither hell nor high water would have stopped the Prince from storming the Palace to see the still breathing King with his own eyes.

Hands outstretched cautiously, Ignis reached the shaking Prince's side, hesitating to lay a hand on the tense, shaking shoulders without permission, lest he upset the young man even more. "Please, Highness if you cannot tell me what is wrong-" Ignis began, intending to request that the Prince at least allow him to tend to the wound on his arm, when His Highness suddenly exploded into motion again, a sock-clad foot once more lashing out at the toppled chest of drawers as the Prince let out another strangled, enraged shout, this time with a word: " _EVERYTHING!"_.

Ignis leapt back at the sudden show of temper, nearly slipping on a small empty bottle on the floor, wary of a strike coming his way, but the Prince stayed facing away from his advisor, chest heaving as he jerked his arms in a strange rapid, repetitive motion, almost as if he were running, fingers half curled into a semblance of claws in front of his chest. The strange gesture was repeated numerous times over the course of several seconds, before abruptly halting, fingers still curled into shaking claws that were as tense as a taut bowstring.

Finally, the Prince spoke again, voice still harsh, "I just woke _up_."

Ignis blinked, then snapped his head down to stare at his watch. It was _three pm_. "Highness," Ignis began cautiously, "It is three in the afternoon-"

"I KNOW THAT!" His Highness burst out, whirling around to face Ignis, arms once more swinging and jerking in that strange, savage, _robotic_ motion, "That's the problem!"

Ignis feared the Prince was going to kick the chest of drawers again, but when his eyes darted to His Highness' feet, he saw that the Prince was standing oddly, only one foot taking his full weight, the other only resting lightly on the floor for balance.

"I can't do _anything!"_ The Prince continued, words coming out strangled shouts, "It doesn't matter what I do, or how early I go to bed- I can't wake up in the mornings unless I _have_ to! It doesn't matter how much I _want_ to- the only way I can get up early for _myself_ is with these disgusting energy shots!" Here the Prince scooped up one of _dozens_ of tiny plastic bottles that littered the floor and savagely chucked it across the room away from Ignis; the lightweight plastic sailed a comically short distance through the air before bouncing lightly off the wall, landing on the floor with barely a clatter.

Ignis was growing more mystified by the minute; stooping down, he scooped up the small bottle he had nearly tripped over before and examined the label on the back, eyebrows climbing higher and higher as he saw the daily values of the ingredients: _8333%_ was the highest, proudly proclaimed at the top.

Ignis' jaw dropped.

"Don't worry, I only take one a day, but as you can see, I ran out, and forgot to buy more last night; I _was_ planning on cleaning when I got home from school yesterday, but I got another _stupid_ headache and just...couldn't. Between college, homework, diplomatic meetings, political debriefings and being so goddess-damned tired all the time, I don't have _time_ for anything, let alone cleaning! " His Highness spread his arms wide, showcasing the room, voice bitter with self recrimination; "I _was_ going to do it today, before you got here… But as you can see, that _didn't happen_ because my stupid brain slept through _multiple alarms_!"

His Highness went to cross his arms in front of his chest, then flinched, finally seeming to notice the shallow gash in his arm that had stopped bleeding, though it remained angry looking, crusted over with drying blood as the crystal the Prince was bound to slowly sealed the damage from worsening.

"Highness, please, come with me to the sitting room and let me take a look at your arm, and your foot," Ignis pleaded, already planning on consulting with one of the palace's on-hand medical staff the instant he left the Prince's apartment, or even before he left, if the Prince would allow it.

He knew that the Prince was drained by the crystal, same as his father, but he had no idea the exhaustion had gotten so bad as to make His Highness rely on so much caffeine just to wake up in the mornings. Ignis had seen many news reports on the dangers of over-consuming such 'shots', and the Prince, already known throughout the Kingdom for his frail constitution, had just admitted to drinking at least one a day! He would be arranging a check up for the Prince as soon as he was able, worried he was putting too much strain on his heart between the crystal and the caffeine. Teenagers of healthier and younger backgrounds were having heart attacks because of such products!

His Highness stood still, hands curved into claws again, silent for a moment, before he scrubbed his uninjured arm over his eyes, savagely dashing away the tears before he nodded and stalked past Ignis, limping slightly as he exited the bedroom. Ignis cast one more glance at the floor, quickly counting the many empty bottles of energy shots that littered the floor, before giving up at the concernedly high amount. Ignis turned, sticking the empty bottle he still held into his pocket for reference later, scooped up his throwing knives, and followed the Prince to the dining room.

He carefully slipped the knives back into their sheaths as he rounded the corner, planning on retrieving the first aid kit from the bathroom before continuing to the living room, only to be greeted by the sight of His Highness attempting to clear off the trash-covered table with one hand, no longer crying, but still pale and shaky from his uncharacteristic outburst, a look of grave resignation on his face as he listlessly tried to clean.

Ignis rushed toward and pulled the overbalanced plates from the Prince's hand before they could fall and shatter; "Don't mind this, I will get it later, let's get your arm sorted out first." He ordered, sitting the plates back down and guiding His Highness to a couch. His Highness shoved the rolled up bags of snack foods to the side and would have kicked a half-empty water bottle out of the way as well if Ignis didn't beat him to the punch, nudging the container away with his own foot in a far more gentle manner.

"Wait here a moment." Ignis said, before he quickly made his way to the bathroom. This area, at least, was well organized; multiple towels in different shades hung up to dry, and a pop-up clothes hamper sat half-full in the corner behind the door. Ignis opened the medicine cabinet behind the mirror and grabbed out the first aid kit that was there- his keen eyes also noted that a large bottle of over-the-counter painkillers was half empty, and that some generic stomach-settling medicine was nearly gone as well. The only full container was, again, a bottle of multivitamins; a different brand than the ones he had spotted on the table.

Thankful that the Prince was at least aware of his diet's inefficiencies but baffled as to why the Prince would not even _take_ the vitamins, Ignis made a mental note to ask and finished gathering the supplies needed to clean and dress the wound on the Prince's arm.

Grabbing a clean hand towel and a shallow basin out of the closet, Ignis filled them with warm water before tucking the med kit under his arm, then made his way back to the living room, where His Highness was once more his usual silent self. The only evidence of his emotional outburst was the lingering redness around his eyes, and red marks on his face from scrubbing his hand across. Ignis offered him a handkerchief nonetheless, and when the Prince took it without complaint, couldn't resist a smile of reassurance.

"Let me get started on your arm, and then we can figure something out." Ignis said, and His Highness looked at him in suspicion.

"'Figure something out'?" The Prince parroted, a defensive glint entering his eyes, "What, so you can send me packing back to the palace? Because I obviously 'can't take care of myself'?"

Ignis frowned as he had his words from earlier in the week repeated back to himself, and shook his head, "No, there is no need for you to return to the palace, not yet, you _are_ capable of living on your own, you just need some help. I had no idea the Crystal was draining you so much, but we can make it easier for you to work around, and possibly see about giving you a small break once or twice a week from all of the politics, though it will be difficult." He said as he began to gently wipe away the dried blood from the gash on His Highness' arm, "The entire point of you moving out of the palace in the first place was for you to experience the real world, and the real world, unfortunately, is not a very forgiving place."

Ignis paused as he saw the Prince's hands flexing again into their anxious claw shape, and laid a gentle hand of his own on His Highness' shoulder. "Fortunately, friends will always be there to help each other out."

Ignis hoped to Etro he was not being too forward with the usually stoic Prince, and that the reserved monarch would not take offense at Ignis' presumption, but instead of shaking off his hand or scoffing, His Highness actually…. _smiled_.

 _Oh._ Ignis felt a flush of heat suffusing his face. _Oh my._

Ever since they had been first introduced, Ignis had tried to remain as professional as possible with His Highness, knowing how important his job was; even at a young age, it had been an easy thing for Ignis; after all, who wanted to run around like all of the other children, shrieking and tumbling through the grass, when you could be sequestered away in a quiet corner, reading a new book?

Ignis had never been one for acting childish, even as a _child_ , and his heightened intelligence had quickly allowed him to ascend several grades until the King himself had caught wind of the native prodigy.

His parents had been overjoyed, and Ignis had been beyond proud to be offered special education by His Majesty Himself, and was quickly enrolled in special programs abroad, putting his mastery of language and reading comprehension to the test in vigorous political and diplomatic training. He and His Highness had been first paired when the Prince was enrolled in public school, and the both of them had remained cool and polite around each other, a product of the Prince's lonely upbringing and Ignis' rigorous training.

Like the times he had seen the Prince cry, Ignis could count on one hand the number of times he had seen the Prince smile; a real, true smile, not a genial nod of greeting or the twitch of the lips forced for the media. His Highness had been as stoic and seemingly unfeeling since the day they had met, until Prompto Argentum had come barreling headlong into the Prince's life at the end of His Highness' high school career. That was the first time Ignis had seen the Prince smile, but this, _this_ smile, directed at himself...

...The sight of such a little thing as a smile on the ever-'expressionless' Crown Prince was doing strange things to Ignis' heart.

Ignis forced himself to take a deep inhalation, filling his suddenly-breathless lungs as he stared, enraptured, at the smile that had suddenly lit up the Prince's entire countenance, bringing new life to his eyes, seeming to change the essence of his very being and every movement. It was beautiful, and Ignis found himself wondering how he could have ever thought that His Highness was expressionless or silent; His every every blink, every shifting of weight, every glance of crystal eyes suddenly and positively screamed with emotion, an unconscious reflection of the thoughts that fought for strict control over themselves for the sake of honoring a father and a kingdom with grace and composure.

Ignis could suddenly see past that control, at the young man that hid beneath the guise of a Prince, and, then and there, he decided it would be his mission in life to see His Highness smile again, smile _more_ , to know that he _could_ express himself without damaging his reputation as Crown Prince, to know that he could let go of that rigid control when it was the two of them, to know that he did not have to act the part of robotic grace to appease a nation when he was among friends, those he could _count on._

And that was just what Ignis found himself wanting to be, as warmth blossomed in his heart and stole his breath away: he wanted to always be there for the Prince, he wanted to always be by his side, through the tantrums and the expressive silence, just so he could see him smile once more, and know that the Prince was happy.

"You realize, if we're friends," His Highness suddenly said quietly, and Ignis looked up, finding no trouble in meeting the Prince's crystalline eyes, "That you're going to have to start calling me 'Noctis', right?" That smile was back, had never left, and truly Ignis wished it never would.

"Alright...Noctis." Ignis said, trying out the name, the first time he had ever referred to the young man as such without a royal title involved- and found that it was easier to say than he had anticipated, it felt _right_ , as though it had written on his very soul and had been waiting all this time to be spoken. "Yes, I think you're right; Now, _Noctis_ , why don't we get started on a list of things that will help you contend with the real world, hmm?"

Ever-ready as a studious note taker, Ignis pulled a length of folded paper and a pen out of his pocket and handed it to His Highness with an over-exaggerated flourish, grinning himself when Noctis shook his head with a chuckle at the uncharacteristic theatricalness.

As Ignis stood to begin tidying up the room, plotting out ways to make cleanup more accessible to the busy Crown Prince, Ignis glanced down at the paper and caught a glimpse at the first item on the Prince's list.

 _1) 'Friends like_ _you_ _by my side.'_


End file.
